Healing

As before, this is part of a much longer work. It occurs sometime after SOLACE, but features the same characters, albeit some of them only marginally. A warning, this isn't in the same tone as my other story, so if you are offended by rougher things, you may not want to read.

There was still the matter of the vampire in my basement.

I'd put off dealing with Dain as long as I could. Rebeka and Adan had gotten him settled in, as settled in as a half-mad revenant could be. Even as I'd prepared upstairs, I could feel his broken aura calling to me.

It tugged at me as I bathed, washing away the blood and dirt I'd acquired rescuing him and dealing with Ivy. It tugged at me as I knelt on my balcony, under the moonlight, and prayed for strength to endure what must be done to cure him. It tugged at me as I dressed, slipping my ritual robes over bare skin and fashioning the silver bracer tight against my neck. It tugged at me as I stood outside the basement door, Adan and Patrick beside me.

"You don't have to do this now," Patrick said, laying a hand on my forearm.

I smiled at him, knowing he sensed my fear and anxiety. I'd never tried this particular tract before, certainly not with a crazed vampire. I wasn't certain I could do it. I wasn't certain She would be with me when I needed her. I didn't want to go in that room, and he knew it.

"Yes, I do." I sighed, reaching out to touch Adan. I needed both of them, needed that skin-to-skin contact. It steadied me, brought me into focus. I was beginning to suspect the Goddess had a greater purpose for putting them both in my life. A purpose I wasn't certain I was going to like, but knew I wouldn't refuse.

Adan looked at me, those melted penny eyes dark. Then he kissed my cheek softly. A smile and a small nod, but no words. He couldn't read me like Patrick could, but it was enough. Patrick understood me and Adan believed in me. It was enough.

"Don't come in, either of you, unless it's absolutely necessary." I glanced at Patrick. "Since you're hardwired into my mind, you get to decide when absolutely necessary gets here."

Adan scoffed in disagreement, but I held firm. Patrick had some idea of what was going to happen, Adan didn't. Adan was too alpha to let me endure what I had to; Patrick didn't like it, but he'd let me, so long as I believed it was necessary. I was counting on the Goddess to let me know when enough was enough. I was scared as hell, but I was going to act on faith anyway.

Taking a slow breath, I moved forward and opened the door. The basement was dark except for the candles Rebeka had lit earlier. I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me.

I was alone with the vampire.

Dain was coiled in a corner, that pale sandy hair falling down his face. His eyes rose as I walked in, but everything else about him was still.

Give me strength, I prayed as I slowly pulled the robe from my shoulders. I stood naked in the candlelight, the silver bracer my only covering.

And still Dain didn't move. Even his eyes were still. The air was thick, heavy in the seconds before thunder claps and the storm breaks.

I took a step forward and prayed:

Lady of waters, I ask for cleansing. Use my hands to free this man from fear. Use my heart to free this man from madness. Use my body to free this man from pain. Use my blood to restore this man to wholeness.

He moved before I could breath, launching himself from across the room. He caught me by the waist, knocking me to the ground. I gasped, the shock of impact displacing the calm the prayer had wrought.

Panicked, I starred up at him. Dain's blue eyes were bright wild stars in the mask of his face. His fangs were bared and he hissed, not seeing me.

No, when he looked at me he saw Ivy, the source of his anguish. It was Ivy he had beneath him, finally free of his chains. Ivy he hated and wanted and despised. Ivy he meant to hurt.

He lunged for my neck and I forced myself to remain still. The silver bracer protected me, as it was intended to. It also infuriated Dain.

He swore at me in a language I didn't know and slapped me. The force of the blow made me dizzy and I wanted to call this off. Let him stay mad, let him stay crazed, so long as I escaped unharmed.

Even as I thought it, I knew I couldn't do it. He'd fought too hard to retain his sanity. He was still salvagable. He'd subjected himself to the worst of Ivy's tortures to keep others from becoming her victims. I could bear physical pain if it brought him back from his hell.

An earthy peace filled me suddenly. That presence I'd felt slipping away from me these last few weeks returned full force and all my fear evaporated. I was hands for healing. I was blood for revival. I was divinity enshrined in flesh. I was.

I stopped resisting Dain, my body going slack and pliant beneath him. He no longer seemed frightening, no longer an instrument of pain and injury. He was the wound I was born to heal.

The shift in me confused him, those blood-mad eyes focusing on me for a second. Then he hissed again, his hands moving roughly over my legs.

If he couldn't take blood, he would take other things. I could read the thoughts in his eyes. But how could he steal what was freely given?

I gasped as he pried my legs apart, large hands bruising my inner thighs. He grunted as he settled himself on top of me, one hand reaching to grasp at my breast. He meant to hurt me. Or rather, he meant to hurt Ivy since that's who he thought I was. He wanted her to scream as he had screamed, wanted her to break as he had broken. But he had none of Ivy's magic or manipulation, so he used his body instead.

He was hard and angry when he thrust into me. There was no gentleness with him, no teasing foreplay. He slammed inside me with all the outrage and panic and humiliation he'd accumulated under Ivy's care and I screamed.

I screamed, not only because of the pain, but because I could see his aura flatten and threaten to splinter. It roiled around him like a hurricane and I knew we were fighting for his soul.

I'd be damned if I let that bitch win.

Even as he thrust inside me and pawed at me, I willed myself to be calm.

With these hands you are free from pain.

I lay my hands upon his chest, let the pure, warm power seep from my body into his.

By the healing Lady of Waters, I banish you Ivy. You will torture this man no more.

Dain faltered, looking down on me with haunted eyes. He held stock-still, impaled so deeply inside me I could feel him against my heart.

I reached and took the hand that had been clawing at my breast and placed it flat over my heart.

With this heartbeat, all chains are broken. You will torment this man no more.

His eyes began to water and clear. He began to pull away from me then, realization dawning. He knew then that I was not Ivy, that I was pinned beneath him, that he had forced himself upon me.

"Oh, no. No. No. No. No. No." His voice was rough, shaken by shame and disgust.

I tightened my grip on his hand, tilting my hips upward. I bit my lip against the lance of pain the motion caused, but I wasn't letting him go now, not when we were so close to saving him.

Dain groaned, shaking his head. "No. No, I don't want to hurt you anymore. Oh, god. Oh, god, I'm so sorry. . ."

If he gave into his regret, I'd lose him. So I tugged him down to me and kissed him. I opened myself to him, letting the purifying powers I offered spill from my lips. Here is salvation. Here is forgiveness. Here is home.

He resisted, at first, then collapsed on me with a desperate groan, kissing me and drinking down my light like a blind man.

It flared inside me, the rightness of this. He belonged to us, not to the darkness. I felt his anguish was away in a flood, all the pain and fear and insanity. All those base, callous instincts Ivy had brought to his surface were buried again in one, bright, brilliant moment.

He broke the kiss, looking down on me with wonder. His sapphire eyes were his own again and I smiled.

He smiled back, a hesitant gesture. "I . . ."

I shook my head, laying fingers to his lips. "Shhh. There is time enough tomorrow for recriminations. Now is time to heal."

For a moment, I thought he would resist. Then he kissed me, so very softly it felt scarcely more than a breath. His hands, recently so rough and cruel, moved over me with the gentleness of early spring. Moved and touched and apologized with a language no mere voice could ever speak.

He touched and kissed me until I sighed, body relaxed and warm beneath him. There was no rush, not now. As cruel as he had been, he was equally caring.

He moved out of me, trailing kisses down my belly, my thighs, until he dropped the softest kiss between my legs. I shuddered then, reaching out for him. I was lost in him, buoyed up Power and success. All memory of pain was gone.

When he entered me this time, it was slow, lazy with promise and feeling. Each stroke so purposefully slow and deep it made me whimper.

He made love to me as a prayer, each breath I took seemed precious to him, each pleasured sigh a mark of my forgiveness. He was not content until I was boneless beneath him, a wave of long, slow climaxes stealing my breath.

And still, he had not allowed himself release.

I peered up at him, sated, my vision clouded. It took what energy I had left to unlock my necklace and push it aside.

"Drink," I whispered, hand stroking his cheek. His face had no barriers. He was all need and contriction, shades of gratitude and devotion. "Drink. Be restored."

This time, he didn't hesitate. His mouth descended and I felt the sharp prick of his fangs. And then such a wave of desire and sensation swept through me that I gasped, arching against him again.

He drove into me then, drove and thrust and arched until we both came over and over. Until I was certain I would die from the sheer joy of it.

We lay spent on the floor, Dain slowly rolling himself off of me. When I shivered, he pulled me to him, curling around me protectively. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was my blood glistening on his smiling lips.